


Aquarius

by Ilovehighhats



Series: Constellations [2]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovehighhats/pseuds/Ilovehighhats
Summary: Or the virtue of patience and persistence.In which old argument is revisited and new conclusion reached.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set at the beginning of November 2007, right after ch. 11 of "The Scientist."  
> Pure smut.  
> Betaed by fantastic ThreeDots.

* * *

 

* * *

  

The light was different, temperature also way lower than it was the first time they had this conversation. Still, Bane stared at Helena in silence, processing whether this weird feeling in his chest was a deja vu spiked with possibility of righting his misstep, or stupid, aimless hope.

“A bath?” He echoed, wincing at the repeated motion. His brows rose noticeably, in a clear display of surprise. Almost immediately they dropped down in a frown, as he tipped his head back to regard Helena with suspicion.

“Well, you granted me one before.”

He only grunted in response, straightening back up from his customary hunch by the desk. Barely noticeable relief untensed rigidness of his back.

“Is it very problematic?” she inquired. Her jaw tightened in a vain attempt to hold back a smirk.

“I'll think about it.”

“I'm sure you will.”

He waited until her hand moved the nib safely away from the page. Warm and heavy palm sneaked into her hair, pulling lightly so that she gazed up at him. No point playing the same game they did before. Her cards were on the table. Pretense was obsolete.

“And what would I get in compensation for my trouble?“

He expected her to bristle and shy away, but she surprised him again. Back of her skull nuzzled into his paw.

“I was thinking you'd join me this time.”

Nonchalant shrug and silky tone of her voice did nothing to conceal dare hidden between the lines. A provocation so obvious, yet alluring all the same with its possibilities.

Warmth bloomed at the pit of his stomach, imagination supplying alternative outcomes to their previous opportunity, with a scaffolding of what he saw reflected on glass.

“It would be a tight fit,” he noted.

“Isn't it always,” she laughed. “But you enjoy fitting nicely and snugly against me, don't you?”

A gamble, he recognized fake bravado all too well. She wasn't sure of his reaction, but the rewards promised were too great to be overlooked, apparently. Already her pupils dilated, enjoying their banter and gentle fingers massaging her scalp.

“I'll think about it.”

It was her turn to hum acknowledgement. Without reluctance she bowed back down over the manuscript, displaying dishevelled bun and smooth neck framed with wisps of hair.

Bane left her room murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like “Damn temptress.“

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

There were things to do over the compound, all year round. Maintenance of the utmost basic sort like tidying quarters and gear, and more sophisticated thorough cleaning; inventorying, cataloguing, organizing, mending and resupplying. His men worked together well, but it all came with a cost, one that someone had to calculate, book and check.

Birdman trudged through explaining discrepancies on food budgeting, when the radio on Bane’s desk screeched on to life.

Sparse wave of mercenary’s palm muted the officer immediately, and Bane took the call with the same air he did everything. As if he knew already who would speak, and what they would want, and he was only listening for the sake of civility and his own amusement.

“Scribe requests to be brought to your quarters, if convenient. Advise. Over.”

“I'll pick her up at 19:00. Over.”

Without looking at Birdman he put the receiver back on a stack of papers where it rested previously. Sighed slightly.

“Does it really matter how many MRI’s do we have in surplus?” he mused, looking over the courtyard. “Learning to fend for themselves might be a good grounding experience during lighter jobs.”

“Sure, but then if we won't have enough for big groups like the Niger one, that would make them roam around and distractions await readily for big guys like that.”

Not so subtle jab. Bane started dispassionately through the window still.

“Also, it's good for the morale, to know you're taken care of,” Birdman reasoned. Never a father himself, he displayed a disturbing level of protectiveness over his men. Coddled them with his care.

“How much control do grown men need? The morale you speak of focuses too much on the physical. We have cozy hospital, room service and unlimited water. Warmth and shelter, all the toys a mercenary would like. You spoil them.”

Birdman visibly swallowed down bitter retort, stopped by a glare from Bane. Instinct and experience taught him it was best not to jab at festering wound that was the Scribe.

“Let's keep the conveniences for trained operatives, but newcomers should learn to provide for themselves. We need resources for Norway still. Contact the abbot, and I'll start the transition talks with him.”

Even an untrained eye would spot the effect the last sentence had on the officer. Bane frowned, wondering how long this unprofessional loosening of his composure lasted for. Did he miss it before, or was it a flaw developed only recently?

“Are you leaving this compound for good?”

“Eventually we’ll have to leave it,” he said, taking care of stressing the ‘we' part.

“Is your plaything coming with us?”

Bane scoffed and waved him over, dismissal plain. He wasn’t sure of the answer himself yet, but the less Birdman knew, the better.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Knowing glances from the guard told Helena everything she needed to know before Bane showed up to lead her through familiar corridors. No one laughed, men who passed them greeted Bane and nodded at her as they walked slowly towards door at the end of the wing.

The window was closed, but the room looked identical. There even was a bottle of rum on the stool by the bathtub.

Boy, was it awkward, Helena thought with a sneer remembering her previous visit.

Silent presence behind her back did nothing to alleviate her apprehension now, just the same as before. She turned around to look at Bane.

“You plan on staying by the door again?” she teased with a smirk.

He didn’t move from his comfortable slouch against the entrance, but mischievous gleam of his eyes betrayed what he had in mind. Stubbornly, he said only “Maybe.”

“Suit yourself.”

Robe slid down her arms with a whisper, swooshing quietly when she caught the fabric before it pooled at her feet. Bottle clicked softly on hardwood floor, and she wasted no time in leaving all her clothes on the stool. Quick dip of her hand to assure temperature of the bath and she carefully slid in one leg, and another.

“Too warm,” she complained with a smile. Tried not to peek at Bane before she settled for good. Foam tickled skin when she leaned back in the tub, deliberately facing the window, matted with perspiration from the bath.

Pity, the view would be spectacular since it was clear and windy lately.

Rustling behind her was a courtesy, alerting her that he was near. Stool scraped on the floor when he positioned it by the tub.

“You never planned on going in, did you?”

“I wouldn't really fit.”

Helena gripped edges, foam clinging to her skin and dribbling slowly down. Right. She didn't have much room to wiggle, and her feet touched the other end so she could rest comfortably with her head above the water. Definitely not enough space to fit them both without some serious contortions.

Disappointment creased her forehead. Her fingers played softly, tracing polished metal in haphazard patterns.

Bane reached to caress her cheek, smoothing lines on her forehead with his thumb. The position made him lean over her slightly, enough to make it easy for Helena to hook her fingers at his collar.

“Take your shirt off at least,“ she mumbled grumpily, leaning into his touch. “Don't make me imagine this time too.”

Huff of air was both strong and loud enough to escape confines of the mask. With single minded efficiency Bane leaned back and pulled on tight fabric peeling it off. His eyes shone with mirth when he brought his hand back to hold his weight while he stretched over Helena.

“Tell me more.”

Simple command, but it carried weight of a promise. Tell me more and prize will be sweet and plentiful, it said. Tell me more and I will make it happen, it said.

But she had other plans, ones that would be just as rewarding and spare the awkwardness of finding words good enough to entice a terrorist. She was always better at copying others anyway.

“I don't kiss and tell, Bane. That's very indiscreet.“ Her fingers went back to his neck, scraping lightly sensitive skin at the back. “But... I could confirm or deny, anything you'd like to, try out as a plausible content of my previous bathtime entertainment.“ All the while her hands never left his skin, playing delicately, maddeningly, tantalizing with soft caress.

The way he focused on her lips didn't escape her notice, and she used his attention to tease him further with a well-timed lick to the corner of her mouth. One, fast curl of her tongue and he huffed again.

Stool creaked as he shuffled to find better position. Hand that was holding him up moved to her neck, mirrored her caress. Blunt nails glided on smooth skin, leaving subtle marks.

“This is perfect way to start,” she whispered.

As if he didn’t know already.

Bane smiled, eyes trained on her face. Weight of her breasts was something he already grew accustomed to, the intimate knowledge of her body easy to gain and remember. He was eager and experienced, and soon had her gasping little involuntary breaths, as her muscles spasmed slightly. Watching involuntary tremors coursing through her body was intoxicating. She didn’t hide them from him, as others did. She gave her pleasure freely, without ulterior motives, requiring only reciprocation from him.

Bane was keen to deliver.

Stiffened nipples slid perfectly between his splayed fingers, caught finally in tender spot at the base. He clenched his hand and dig pads of digits into soft skin beneath.  

“Ah, too hard!” she gasped out.

He braced his free hand behind her, put more expertise into the caress, cupping now more than squeezing. For a while he rested his palm in the shallow valley at her sternum, feeling strong beating of her heart.

“I will fuck you in that rhythm.”

Predictably, her pulse picked up, thrumming even more powerful and rapidly quickening.

“Yes, just like that. Slow and deep the way you like, and then just as I want, hard and fast.”

Expanse of her stomach tensed, muscles pleasantly rigid under his nails, unkindly scratching down. But he didn’t plan on touching her core just yet.

She shuffled her legs, moved them apart, and he took advantage sliding his rough palm down to her knee. The skin of the underside was velvety smooth under his fingertips, a treat in itself, with added bonus of joyful laughter from Helena.

“Ticklish?” he teased. Immediately his hand glided upwards, silencing her mirth, replacing it swiftly with anticipation.

“In,” she breathed, the word a plea.

Bane was happy to oblige. He pressed in two fingers, stretching the opening slightly, relishing quiver of muscles as Helena brought her thighs together. Bane leaned in. The slickness he felt now was like liquid silk, stroking his desire higher with sheer abundance of it. He wanted to taste it, to smell her essence and lick it off her sweet perfumed skin.

Her head rested on his forearm, his hand clenched at the rim just beside her neck. Moaning, she nuzzled closer, licking his skin to feel more.

His fingers stroked her rhythmically, unhurried thrusts timed with the help of her own palms squeezing his bicep and shoulder, guiding him. Hypnotizing.

Water sloshed around with an unmistakable beat, adding substance to Helena's moans and Bane’s quickened huffs. No hiding what they did, if anyone chose to walk the corridor now.

Then again, was that ever in question?

She started clenching her walls, and Bane struggled to keep his palm working steadily, with the pressure on his arm and undulation of her hips.

“More,” she demanded.

It was the best kind of request, need clearly visible and readily audible, last syllable followed by a strangled whine through teeth clamped on her lip.

“Turn,” he commanded, voice a grating rasp, betraying his own want.

Helena mirrored her position from beginning of the night, gripping edges of the tub tightly.  Rapid panting only indication of how close he got her, how hot for him.

Bane let her watch as he unbuckled his belt, harshly tugging at the metal clasp, angrily sliding canvas fabric out of its place. Top of his pants was secured with wide velcro strap, and the sound of it ripping apart finally jolted the Scribe back to action.  She sat up, smoothly transferred to her knees. Hesitated before turning around.

“I never really saw you before.”

Rush of anxiety stroked his back, straightened hunched shoulders. He swallowed thick saliva pooling uselessly in his mouth.

What he wouldn't give to lean down now and lick her nervously bitten lips.

She kept her gaze glued to his eyes, even when sound of the zipper cut through silence of the room.

“Turn,” he repeated, an undertone of need cushioning hard command.

It was obvious what she planned to do, he saw it from mile away. Still, first touch was almost unbearably intense.

She stroked tip of his cock with her mouth, took him in and swirled her tongue greedily around the crown.

Bane held her head still with one palm, the other steadying himself.

“Turn.” A whisper this time.

He watched her suck on her lower lip, tasting his musk. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.

“Come here.”

The idea was ridiculous.

He braced himself on the opposite side of the tub, pulled her roughly up when he stepped into the water. Hooked her legs at his hips, stretching them uncomfortably, pressing too closely to warmed metal. Helena grinned and adjusted her hold on the edges too, moved her body fluidly under his hands. Soaked canvas of his pants was smoother, but still rough enough to chafe pleasantly her behind when he pulled her closer.

The water splattered and sloshed, spilling freely to the floor as he ground his hips in tight, restrained drags. Irritation fought the desire to take more, and he found himself unable to stop long enough to realign their limbs. His back arched over her in laborious exercise, guaranteed to hurt the next day. Knees, cushioned by guards permanently attached to his pants, didn’t slide on the bottom of the tub, but his palms did, his grip slipping into desperate one hand clawing as he pushed faster, tugging her closer by the hip.

He loved how vocal she was, how unashamed of her desires once he coaxed her to the act. Low moans rung in his ears, mingled between them with droplets of water, wisps of ever shrinking foam and his own grunts.

Just a little more.

Bane thrust harder, desperate for the oblivion, uncaring. He relished loud breathy gasps of surprise from Helena, followed by frantic clawing on his skin, a sign he knew. Close. Just a little further.

The tub moved.

He swallowed his concern, zeroing in on the moment, primal want coursing through his muscles, muting everything that wasn't an indication to rut harder, go deeper, move faster. Just a few seconds, just a moment.

Vertigo gripped him for a millisecond as they tipped over, the sensation of falling oddly comforting and peaceful. They spilled on the floor along with a torrent of soapy suds. Bathtub hit the wood with a hollow bang.

Bane cushioned their fall supporting himself on the hand that gripped the tub, pressing Helena's head to his chest.

Three seconds and they could hear thud of steps outside, hurried sound signalling they had company.

“It’s fine,” Bane shouted. “Back to your posts.”

“Yes, sir.” Muted, from behind the door. Drenched with amusement.

Helena shook under him, so he carefully let her go, making sure her back was safely plastered to the floor. He started to gather himself up, but before he could tense muscles to kneel up she squeezed her thigh around him.

Deep and silky laugh echoed in the tub, and bounced between the walls of small room. Head thrown back, she braced her outstretched hands on his chest.

“I haven’t finished yet, Bane. You wouldn’t leave me unsatisfied after a bath again?”

Burying his head between her breasts he chuckled, as he reshuffled his knees, brought both his palms under her ass to end them both with languid strokes.

The angle changed, and every hit upwards Bane took care to bottom out with increasing force, slamming his abdomen bluntly to her clit. Heat of those last minutes so intense, he felt wetness practically vaporizing in translucent mist around them. Helena’s moans turned throaty, and then as he grunted harshly through the mask, they changed quality to almost pained hissing through gritted teeth.

Her release followed his, lucky stroke tipping her over the edge after he finished and ground hard up overwhelmed with serotonin rush clouding his mind.

Edge of the tub provided him with a place to rest his head, and he lazily stroked her quivering thighs, observing her calming breath in slowing expanding and compressing of her chest.

“No more baths together. Satisfied?”

She smiled and hummed.

Yes, he was too.

 

* * *

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, writing Helena and Bane, especially the masked man, was a pleasure. I missed it as soon as I saw “The Scientist” nearing its inevitable end, hence this little effort at letting go gently. One drabble at a time.  
> This particular one was written for a commenter on ff.net.


End file.
